like legends
by belliisperennis
Summary: Duty and honour binds Aera Primula to the one last task given to her by her king, before the destruction of her home. Guarding a relic that has been erased from memory and lore, accompanied by a fallen Glaive it's roused from death, Aera embarks down a dangerous road to alter fate. It's no small feat, and Aera may have to bear the burden of her legacy sooner than she'd hoped.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's notes:**_

It's my first fic in a seriously long time (hence the iffy summary, and potentially iffy formatting. I've forgotten how to use ffnet) so, hurrah?

This is also posted on AO3 under the same title.

Though the story will be told in Aera's perspective (for whom, by the way, I've casted Chloe Bennet...because of my unrepentant love for her), but I didn't want the reader to know everything that Aera knows, right off the bat. Hence the mystery surrounding her, as well as the circumstances of her encounter with Nyx.

I like stringing my readers along ;)  
so, enjoy!

* * *

Broken. It's a cliched descriptor, so plain in meaning-but so apt to describe what has become of this city. So many buildings have crumbled, homes fallen into ruin; but it's the people, too. Insomnia had been so vibrant, with its bright lights and deep shadows, with its diversity of people and life.

Now, it's awash in grey.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, soldier." Her companion's voice pulls her gaze away from the narrow window, and she lets the curtain fall back into place. Attention drifts almost lazily to Rangi, his expression the picture of tranquility as he helps their previously unconscious patient sit up from the bed.

"...what…?" Brows draw together, eyes looking slightly clouded still with the remnants of sleep. "Am I still...in Insomnia?" Aera watches him scan the modest apartment, drowsiness very quickly chased away by brevity.

Rangi nods, grief seeping into his expression for only a brief moment. "Yes. What's left of it. But-don't worry." He gestures to the locked door, barricaded by furniture. "It's safe...relatively speaking."

From the opposite side of the bachelor apartment, the fourth inhabitant, Lyra, shifts from the couch. She affords Aera a quick glance before moving to the kitchen to fetch their patient a water bottle.

"It won't stay that way for much longer." Aera's voice almost startles their guest, as he'd apparently not noticed her before. His brows knot together, and Aera holds his gaze only for a moment before nodding to the window beside her. Rangi's basement apartment doesn't leave much room for views outside; this narrow window only affords them a small glimpse of the ground above the apartment, and one of the streets beyond. But it's enough. "Magitek troopers; two of them. It looks like they're patrolling a set route."

Lyra shakes her head. "But the king is dead and they took the Crystal; Niflheim has what it wants. Why are its troops still here?"

The question seems to cause the Kingsglaive to deflate a little, but Aera ignores him as she jumps off the top of Rangi's built-in shelving. Her landing is near silent, and she pauses only to straighten her shirt.

"The complete destruction and annihilation of Insomnia's citizens is probably their way of tying up loose ends." It's said in a neutral tone and expression, but Aera can hardly contain the anger that thrums beneath her skin.

"That doesn't surprise me." Each syllable is punctuated by bitterness, and considering the state in which Aera found the Glaive-and under the assumption that it was the Empire who'd put him in such a state-no one can blame him. "So...you guys can't leave?" Brows dip again, gaze lowering into a furtive look.

"Damage from the attack made most of the buildings unstable." A short pause, barely enough to garner attention from the Glaive, but long enough that Aera notices. Her breath catches in her throat, eyes intent on the teenager until Lyra seems to regain her composure. "Between that, the panic, and Imperial forces filling the streets, maybe staying here was the safest thing to do."

"We couldn't just leave you behind," Rangi adds in a voice he means to be reassuring, although the soldier doesn't look terribly convinced. "We'd be no better than the empire...or the looters." His jaw tightens, the muscles of his back tensing as though in remembrance of a brawl. He's made these allusions before, though neither Aera nor Lyra asked him about it. While they're not friends-only survivors bound together by a mutual need for safety in numbers and companionship-they at least had enough tact to let the man tend to his wounds in peace.

"In any case," Aera's voice seems to dim the tension in Rangi's body language, "we should start preparing for an actual departure."

"He just woke up from a three-day coma, you can't expect him to be up and running just yet." There's no hostility in Rangi's voice, though his expression is tentative and uncertain. The three of them have established some level of trust in the last few days; it's difficult not to, having gone through what they had together. Yet Aera's not oblivious to the apparent unease she sometimes incites in Rangi. While his quiet is borne of his tranquil nature, Aera's quiet is guarded, a mask that seems to veil her intentions.

"Actually, as far as I can tell, he's fine." They'd left Lyra to examine the unconscious Kingsglaive, assuming she's the most apt to do so. And aside from some relatively minor, superficial wounds, she'd not found any reason for his unconscious state.

The knowledge of that reason is something Aera intends to keep to herself.

"I feel fine," the soldier himself admits, clearly to Rangi's mild chagrin.

"He'll have the time to get himself up to speed," Aera continues, tone sounding as though she's simply waving off the matter. "It could be more difficult to leave now that there's fewer people to keep imperial attention off of us." It's a morbid thought, but one that the others seem to have as well. Looters and those who revel in lawlessness attempted to seize the city following the night of the siege, but it was clear by that evening that the city still does not belong to them. It seems that only the mechanical march of Magitek troopers break the silence of Insomnia now. "We'll also want to make sure we're prepared once we make it outside of the city."

If they make it outside of the city. Rangi may be a formidable foe when spurred, but he's never been trained in combat. And Lyra's affinity is for the sciences, for learning and knowledge, more than for war. Even if the Kingsglaive is to aid them, could they so easily make it out of Insomnia in one piece?

"Aera's right. We'll need provisions for both the journey out of the city, and beyond that. Not to mention weapons." It's clear that Lyra has given their escape more thought than Rangi might have.

He looks reluctant, but Rangi nods, shoulders heaving with an exhaustive sigh.

"Weapons...I might be able to find you some." The Glaive shifts, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He takes a moment to stretch, testing the stability of his limbs before he stands. "It's the least I can do."

Aera watches him, appraising his earnest expression as though searching for lies. She meets his gaze when he turns to her, and finds that-unless he is more skilled in the art of lying than she is-his offer to help is genuine. Though her expression remains guarded, Aera nods. "You know where the Kingsglaive armoury is."

"Yeah, but it won't be easy getting in. It's close to the Citadel, and-"

"Any higher ranking imperial officials left in Insomnia have likely gathered there. Which means they'll be surrounded by Magitek guards."

She catches Rangi's deep frown in the periphery of her vision. "It's too dangerous. The weapons would only be a precaution; it's not enough to risk your life over." Shaking his head, Rangi crosses his arms over his chest. "We haven't needed any weapons yet."

Yet is the key word. They might have been able to make their way back to Rangi's apartment with little trouble, but that was at the peak of chaos. The streets are likely near empty now, and anyone bold enough to travel through them would be in perfect view of any Magitek patrols. "I know you're not naive enough to believe we won't run into any trouble, Rangi."

Aera takes quiet note of the Glaive's expression as he watches their exchange, the way he's glancing between the both of them with a look of contemplation on his face. As far as she knows, the Kingsglaive had been dispatched to rescue Lady Lunafreya from an Imperial vessel; it had, of course, been a means to get the king's superpowered army out of Insomnia. Which of course, begs the question of why this soldier remained in the city. And why he was brought back from the beyond.

"I'm not. But I stand by what I said; it's not worth risking anyone's life."

Her expression softens a little, ears catching on the quiet resignation in Rangi's voice and the way his brows twist together into a look of concern. She remembers the look of mourning with which he gazed upon the ruins of the city, and though he hasn't spoken of any of his family or friends, Aera can aptly assume he has many, and he still worries for them.

"He's not going alone. And I've gotten myself through a lot worse." Voice drops to a softer tone, hand resting on Rangi's arm as though to reassure him. "I can't leave you or Lyra defenseless if things go awry-which they likely will."

Still, Rangi shakes his head. "We might find something along the way. And besides, I don't even know how to wield any weapons, Aera. I'm more likely to hurt myself than to do any good."

Her attention jumps to the Kingsglaive. "Are there trainee weapons, too? Something easier to handle?"

The man hesitates, his gaze shifting between her and Rangi as though trying to decide whose side to take. His nod is slow and a little reluctant. "The wooden weapons we use to train with aren't going to do much. There are some batons though."

Aera's nod is much more resolute. "Good. That should suffice." She shoots Rangi a pointed look before he could protest, but frowns when she notices Lyra's contemplative silence. Her head cants as she looks at the younger girl, silently asking.

The response she receives is only a small nod. "A baton would be good. As long as I can swing it like a baseball bat."

"How mean's your swing?" The corners of her lips quirk into some semblance of a smile, widening when Lyra seems to straighten with pride.

"Meanest on my team." They both skillfully sidestep the bitter nostalgia associated with such a statement. "The MTs are mostly machinery. Sturdy machinery, but a hard enough swing at the legs should incapacitate them."

Rangi doesn't look convinced, but even he knows when the argument's lost. "If it gets too bad, you hightail out of there, okay? Forget the weapons."

"It won't, but if it does, we will. Alright?" It seems to placate Rangi to hear that, and satisfied, she turns to the Glaive. "When will you be up and running?"

Brows raised, the soldier tests his limbs, hopping on the spot and trying his balance. "Right now, apparently." The surprise is evident in both voice and expression, accompanied by wonder and confusion. The severity of his condition must not have been lost on the soldier.

"We'll head out after sundown, then. There'll be better cover." She's been able to confirm that Magitek soldiers' sight only marginally enhanced when compared to a normal human's, though they do appear to be equipped with more advanced auditory receptors. In any case, Aera feels much more comfortable under the cover of the night, where she can the Glaive, clothed in black, could at least hide in the shadows.

"Sounds good." Though his tone is casual, there's no mistaking the resolve nor the briskness. He's accepting a mission, and it's as though Aera is his commander. The thought worries her; she much prefers working alone-or at most, with a partner. But a subordinate is perhaps a little too much responsibility.

"And we're going to leave the city tomorrow?" Lyra's stood from the couch, leaning instead against the wall beside the shelving with her arms crossed. She has her appraising stare fixed on the Glaive, likely trying to determine if he's really fit to head towards the Citadel tonight.

"If we're ready to." Aera nods to the kitchen, where containers of non-perishable foods have been stacked neatly on the counter. "Can you ration the food, figure out how much we have and how much we'll need?"

The teenager nods. "I'll take stock of medical supplies, too."

"I'm going to see if there's any way to contact some of my friends outside of the city. Maybe they can pick us up somewhere." It's the first mention that Rangi's made of any of his friends, and Aera can't help but feel some relief that at least some of his loved ones might have escaped the Empire's wrath.

She nods, before motioning to the Glaive. "I'll need you to give me the route and the layout of the armory and the nearby area. I don't intend to go in there blind."

The stranger nods, looking slightly impressed if not reluctant to be leading whom he likely assumes is a civilian into danger. The city of Insomnia hasn't faced much adversity for many years, so Aera supposes their efficiency might come as a bit of a surprise. But she's seen what ordinary people can be capable of when under duress; Aera's only glad that both Lyra and Rangi are the sort to deal with the crisis first, and the emotional fallout later.

Both Rangi and Lyra separate to tend to their tasks, and Aera motions towards the small dining table. The wooden surface is veiled by a myriad of rough sketches; maps drawn from memory of potential routes outside of the city. The Glaive follows, exhaling with a low whistle at the organized chaos on paper.

Aera seats herself, motioning to the chair across from her. "Let's hope your…episode hasn't affected your memory. I'm going to need as much detail as you can provide."

"I'll do my best." He flashes her a cocky smile, one that's marred by the ever-present unease that accompanies the destruction of one's home.

Deft fingers close around the pencil, its tip hovering over a blank sheet of paper when Aera pauses. "We never got to introduce ourselves." Go figure that something so mundane would be lost in the urgency of their situation, and Aera can't ignore the little bitter twist in her gut. It's a reminder that nothing will ever be the same again.

"That's Rangi," she starts, with a nod in the aforementioned man's direction. The muscles of his arms bulked and strained as he carried the camping equipment from one of his back rooms, dark, olive skin turning a tad flush with effort. "This is his apartment. And that's Lyra," and a wave towards the teenager with her dark curls and wide, observant eyes, "she's the one who noticed you were still breathing." Or at least, she was the one who brought it to Rangi's attention-because the Glaive wasn't breathing when Aera first noticed him. "I'm Aera."

The Glaive responds with a polite nod. "Nyx. Nyx Ulric."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Notes**_

 _Thanks to everyone who read, faved/followed, and left a review c:_

 _A little forewarning for a description of a dead body. Nothing too graphic, but it may be upsetting. It happens in the paragraph after "Used to eat here all the time." in case anyone wants to skip it._

* * *

The silence is marred only by the mechanical marching of the Magitek patrols and wind through empty streets. The brilliant glow of the sunset has faded since they'd left Rangi's apartment, and they're guided only by the light of the stars—so much brighter now without Insomnia's lights to drown them.

Perhaps their footing would be more certain if either of them had brought a flashlight, but that would have defeated the purpose of going at night. In any case, Aera feels safer in the dark—and she'd feel safer on the rooftops, too, if only she didn't think the Glaive might lose his footing and fall to his death.

"Is there even anyone else left in Insomnia?" His voice is hushed, and he speaks only when the sounds of the patrols seem far enough away. Aera expects no less from a Glaive, yet she can't deny her relief that her companion is competent.

Aera glances at him, pausing for a moment to tie off the end of her braid. It sits over her shoulder, dark strands blending with the black of her jacket. "Some were able to escape." She's seen the surge of people on the bridge the morning following the attack, before Niflheim began its patrols and blockages around the city. Yet, the crowd was small considering Insomnia's population, and the numbers of those who perished in the attack seems unfathomable.

Those who've survived cannot have fared much better. Aera's seen them, peering through covered windows, hurrying out of the streets, mourning for the people they've lost, sobbing over immobile bodies. It's impossible to know how many people remain in Insomnia, and unsettling to think of what may happen to them. "No one wants to be outside."

And yet—four walls and a locked door provide only an illusion of safety.

 _You can't save everyone_.

"Can't blame 'em." A subtle nod to their right alerts Aera of an approaching MT, one that doesn't appear to have spotted them yet. She feels Nyx shift, and glances down to see the dagger in his hand and his shoulders squared in preparation for combat.

The tips of her fingers lightly skim the sleeve on his forearm; a silent command to stand down. The Glaive stills, looking at her almost impatiently. "Where there's one, there'll be more," Aera whispers, and redirects his attention to the alley behind them. "There's a way around." She doesn't wait for Nyx to agree before she changes route, backing into the alley.

It's a maze of shuttered store fronts and abandoned patios, where the air was once filled with the smells of greasy deep-fry and overflowing beers. Aera doesn't turn when she hears the Glaive catch up to her, focusing instead on her mental map of the paths ahead. It's a detour, but it's one that provides more routes for which to escape the attention of any patrols.

"Used to eat here all the time." The Glaive's voice surprises her, and Aera glances at him out of the corner of her eyes. Even with his face half cast in shadows, she can see the grief as he scans the darkened buildings.

Surely, he must have known he'd perish with this city. Aera had the misfortune of seeing the state of his body before whatever had changed, changed. Blackened skin stark against the bloodless pallor of his gaunt face, half of his body lost to ashes, scattered over the ruins of Insomnia. All miraculously repaired in the blink of an eye.

Aera fights the shiver that trembles through her spine, maintaining a languid smile as though her thoughts haven't fallen to such a dark place.

"They had the cheapest kebabs I could find anywhere in Insomnia." The statement draws a look of surprise from her companion, and he responds with a quiet chuckle.

"You don't seem like a back-alley kebab kinda girl." The teasing in his voice does little to veil the bereavement, but Aera doesn't try to ruin the moment.

Her hand glides along the brick wall beside her as she leads the Glaive towards their destination. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

There's a quick pause as the steady rhythm of a Magitek trooper's patrol approaches, but it passes without faltering, and they both continue down the back street. "That jacket looks pretty expensive."

He's not wrong. The leather jacket to which he's referring cost a pretty penny—though it wasn't Aera who'd commissioned it. In spite of its thinness, it's perfectly insulated against the cold, and made of much tougher material than its high-street fashion counterparts—tough enough to have protected Aera from the wanting claws of the beasts outside the city. Not every girl hopes to receive incognito tactical gear for her birthday, but Aera's not complaining.

"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy good food." She meets his smirk with a small smile of her own, single brow raised as though daring him to state otherwise. He doesn't, responding instead with a low chuckle.

They emerge from the darkened alley, pausing only to ensure that the street is empty. Rubble has blocked off half the road, and Aera doesn't try to peer into the half-crushed car beneath the debris. It's a little difficult to say anything light now, especially when the memory of Nyx's body in the ruins starts merging with the image of whomever was likely crushed in that car.

As they draw closer to the city's heart, Aera's found to be proven right. Where the sound of a patrol was an occasional, passing thing, it's now a constant whir. The Magitek infantry march in perfect unison, the sounds of their workings a steady rhythm that would ward off any trespasser.

Aera is no stranger to the Citadel's layout, privy even to its secret passages; but the Citadel isn't their destination. This time, she's the one who's following, trailing beside the Glaive along the last street to remain free from the Magitek patrols, her mind tracking their location in the map she's memorized. They pause at each intersection, and she can see the mounting frustration on Nyx's features when each street they approach appears to be dominated by at least two MTs.

"Nyx." He stops instantaneously, turning around to look at Aera with a raised brow. "We're not going to get through the streets without alerting every MT in a two mile radius."

It's not a fact either of them can ignore, and Aera wonders if the Kingsglaive is starting to believe this endeavour is futile. His shoulders heave with a stifled sigh. "Are we turning back, then?"

Aera scoffs. "No. We're going to alert every MT in a two mile radius."

There's a moment of confused silence, before the meaning of her suggestion dawns on the Glaive. It's perhaps the first genuine smile she's seen from him, even if it's one of mischief. "What do you have in mind?"

"A short detour to the nearest power station." Her mental map places the power station in the opposite direction of their destination, which should draw most of the patrols away from where they need to be. "The generators are already compromised, so it shouldn't be too difficult to overload them." Fingers scrabble for a large enough piece of debris, and Aera tests its weight for a moment before sidling up to the corner of the building beside her.

Two Magitek assassins, their paths alternating down the same street. Eyes narrow at an aluminum trash can that's been toppled in a side street, located diagonally from where she stands. The distance between her mark and the street she intends to take isn't much—"we've got to move fast. You ready?" She catches his nod out of the corner of her eyes, and so she takes aim.

The piece of cement collides with the trash can as she'd intended, and she waits with bated breath until both of the troopers alter their paths to investigate. Aera takes off the moment their backs are turned, keeping low and scrambling across the street, stopping only when she's within shadows once more. A moment later, Nyx joins her, his expression carrying the thrill-wrought grin of an adrenaline junkie.

They move away from the Citadel, and though the concentration of MTs have decreased, both of them maintain their guard. The power station is situated across from a number of older buildings, surrounded by a flimsy wire fence. Every once in a while, the street is illuminated by a bright blue spark; proof that indeed, the generators are on their last leg.

Aera scales the fence easily, not waiting for Nyx before she continues to search for exposed wiring. A crackle and sizzle leads her to a grouping of electrical transformers, the metal casing in most of them dented. One is missing the covering on its panel, and sparks fly from the wiring within.

"...Do you know what you're doing?" The Glaive's voice seems to echo across the empty grounds, but there are no imperial patrols to hear him.

Aera casts a contemplative glance in his direction, then at the exposed panel. Lips pursed, brows drawn together, she's trying to go as far back as her school days to recall any information that might be useful. Drawing a blank, Aera realizes she'll just have to hope for the best.

"I think so?" She doesn't comment on the dubious expression on Nyx's face.

Narrowed eyes scan the ground in front of her, and ignoring the strange look her companion gives her, she scoops up some dried leaves. Masking her trepidation with a steady stride, Aera moves towards the transformer, pausing only for a brief moment before throwing the leaves into the panel.

She steps back, returning to her position beside Nyx. His lips part in question, but her eyes remain on the panel, watching the sparks fly again. It takes another few seconds before they catch on the dried leaves, and she smells the burning foliage before she sees the smoke and fire.

It catches quickly, the crackling of the electricity growing more fervent as the flames grow. There's an insistent hum in the air, like millions of cicadas descending at once. "Time to go." Before Nyx can react, she's got her fingers around his wrist, pulling him away from the building until they're both running towards the fence. They've barely made it past the station threshold when the ground trembles and a roar tears into the night.

Aera doesn't have to turn around to know that she's successfully overloaded the first transformer. More will follow, judging from the flashes of stark white light from behind them. Aera skids to a stop as she reaches one of the buildings, taking only a brief moment to catch her breath. The fire continues, as do the explosions, and already, she can hear the patrols gather at the source of the chaos.

"I really hope you're okay with heights." Aera briefly glances at her companion before motioning towards the iron escape ladder to their right. With the majority of the Magitek forces moving their way, there won't be much of a safe route for them on the streets.

Nyx gives her a resolute nod. He takes only another second to catch his breath before he launches himself up the ladder, deftly climbing to the roof. Aera follows, fingers tightening around the rungs of the ladder as another explosion causes the iron platform to shudder.

From the roof, Nyx extends a hand, and though Aera certainly doesn't need it, she accepts the gesture and closes her hand over his. He practically hauls her up the rest of the way, as though she weighs little more than a child.

He's glancing over her shoulder, a low whistle escaping his lips as he surveys the damage. The rooftops are illuminated with the flickering glow of flames and sparks; light that will, hopefully, last long enough for them both to make it to the armoury safely. Nyx's gaze meets hers, and he nods before taking off in the direction of the armoury, glancing backwards only once to ensure she's keeping pace.

And for her part, Aera keeps up without trouble, vaulting over the banister and revelling in the air beneath her as she crosses the distance between this building and the next. She can see the MTs below, weapons readied as they hurry towards the power station, but none of them notice the two figures leaping across rooftops only a few feet above them. The exhilaration elicits a grin, one matched by the one on her companion's own lips.

It's a much faster means of arriving at their destination, and they pause only to ensure that the street below is empty. Before he descends, Nyx fixes her with an appraising look, corners of his lips quirked as though impressed. "You do a lot of gymnastics in your spare time, Aera?"

"Something like that." The look with which he appraises her resembles that of a mathematician in front of a challenging equation. Yet, Aera's content to leave him guessing, one corner of her lips curving up into a coy smile. She doesn't miss the way his brows remain slightly furrowed whenever he glances her way, the proverbial gears continuously turning throughout the trek.

Where the night was marked before with the mechanical whirs of the Magitek troops, Aera finds the area almost perfectly silent, with the rumbles of the explosions sounding muted and distant. The building they're approaching is old, with a grand stone facade and an ornate entrance. It pales in comparison to the Citadel, and to the Crownsguard's own headquarters, but it's beautiful nonetheless. If only it isn't so pockmarked with damage from the invasion.

The halls within are empty as well, though Aera takes care to silence her footfalls. She's only been in the Kingsglaive headquarters once before, and with so little light filtering through the windows, her only sense of direction is completely reliant on Nyx. Apparently realizing this, he sticks close, glancing at her every once in a while to ensure that she's still there.

The corridor opens to a large courtyard to their right, and Nyx's pace falters. His gaze shifts to the courtyard, somber expression punctuated by the shadows the moonlight casts across his face. The surrounding walls are marred by scorch marks and nicks, though they don't appear to have been from the invasion. This must have been where the Glaives trained.

Aera might only imagine what's become of his Glaive comrades, but it's clear the loss weighs heavily on the soldier.

"C'mon." Her voice is soft, and her gesture is small; a light touch on his forearm. Without looking at her, he nods, and they continue onwards. About three turns and four doors later, they arrive.

The room is dark, but she can see the outlines of a handful of familiar weapons against the shadows. Nyx enters first, and Aera follows, careful not to stumble into anything sharp. He seems to know exactly where to go, and Aera's content to stand in the room's centre, trying to differentiate the weapons in the dark.

"The Glaives were deployed just before the invasion," he explains, and Aera can hear the dull thunk of wood clashing against metal. "So there's not much left. The batons are here, though." He hands them to her, and she dutifully shoves them into the backpack she's brought.

Nyx busies himself with a rack built into one wall, his hands gliding along the handful of stored weapons until they find what he's looking for. "I guess these will do," the Glaive murmurs as he straps the holsters to his uniform. He returns to scanning the rack for a moment before Aera sees him reaching for something else.

Brows raise in surprise when he turns to hand them to her. Aera's fingers close around sturdy leather holsters, and skirt over the curved dagger handles. Head cants, and though she's sure Nyx can't see her look of surprise, she can certainly imagine the smirk on his face. "Something tells me you're a little past _trainee_ weapons."

He's perceptive, she'll give him that.

"Thank you." Though the weapons are unfamiliar, their weight as she pulls the straps around her hips certainly are.

The Glaive returns to her side and Aera can imagine the appraising look on his features as he shifts his gaze in her direction. "You up for another stop before we head back?" She can only guess the reason behind the hesitation underlying those words, and it seems she paused for just a moment too long. "It's fine, we can head back. The others are probably worried."

There's something dejected about the way he shrugs it off, which only continues to pique her curiosity. "They'll be fine. The night's still young." It occurs to her how dangerous it might be to be more or less blindly following a stranger—but Aera's no stranger to dangerous situations.

And if she can't even defend herself against a single Glaive, how might she even dream of achieving the task that's been given to her?


	3. Chapter 3

Though many of the MT patrols have returned to their previous routes, the journey away from Kingsglaive HQ feels a lot more assured now that they're both properly armed. The fire at the power station continues to burn, so they keep to the rooftops, returning to the streets only when the light of the flames is no longer enough to illuminate their path.

Insomnia is vast, and though Aera had grown up in the Crown City, she's yet to learn every single street. So while she's forming as detailed of a mental map as she can, Aera finds herself following Nyx into unfamiliar neighbourhoods. Naturally, her guard rises—and it certainly doesn't help that the Glaive has been keeping more to himself than before.

Their pace slows as they approach a modest street of rowhouses. One portion has been destroyed by a fire, and fresh graffiti mars the facade of a couple of the homes. The windows are all darkened, and the only sounds Aera can hear are hers and Nyx's footsteps.

A hand continues to hover over one of the daggers she'd received from Nyx, but she's compliantly trailing just behind him as he descends a couple of steps into one of the lower apartments. She watches him pull a sparse set of keys from an inner pocket in his uniform to unlock the apartment door.

Wordlessly, he enters, and Aera pauses only for a moment before she follows.

It's a small home, the space feeling even more confined than Rangi's modest apartment. The furniture is mismatched, and the rest of the apartment is not without its own personality. There are some trinkets occupying the shelves, and books that look well-worn and likely filled with dog-eared pages. Her gaze drops to the framed photograph sitting on the table beside the armchair, and even in the dimness she can recognize Nyx in the photo. There's another man in the photo beside him, and a woman; they're all smiling.

Her attention shifts to Nyx, who's hovering over his desk by the opposite wall. Brows knot together as Aera scans over the pages that dominate that wall; newspaper clippings and photographs pinned to the plaster almost haphazardly. From her position, Aera can only read the bolded headlines: "The Attack on Galahd".

Pretty easy to put two and two together.

Nyx doesn't take much, removing only a single photograph from the wall and tucking it into his Kingsglaive jacket before turning to Aera. His eyes fall to the photograph behind her, the one with him and whom Aera assumes are two of his friends. Wordlessly, she steps away, giving him space to retrieve the photo from the frame.

For a moment, Aera's reminded of her parents' estate, of the way she wandered through the rooms like a spectre for days. And Aera remembers how hard difficult it had been to mourn on her own, with her only true friend Gods know where, tending to his own duties.

She casts a furtive glance at the Glaive, taking note of his stony expression, the way his jaw is tightened and his shoulders tensed. His hands shake as he slips the photo into his pocket, but his stature is all business when he turns to face her again.

Neither of them say anything as they leave. Nyx doesn't bother locking the door, and walks ahead without glancing back. Maintaining a respectful distance between them, Aera follows, keeping an eye on the Glaive's posture as they take to the darkened streets once more.

Nyx had been right to say that Rangi and Lyra were worried. Lyra, who's been amazingly composed in spite of the absolute destruction of her home, almost flung herself at Aera the moment she walked through the door.

"Lyra... Can't. Breathe." The teenager loosens her hold on Aera, stepping back and looking a smidge embarrassed.

"Sorry—I just—the explosion. And—" Her shoulders heave as she draws in a deep breath, and Lyra takes another second to regain her composure before speaking. "I was worried about what that explosion meant."

"And why it took you guys so long." Rangi steps away from the kitchen counter, his exasperation evident even though Aera can't make out his features in the darkness.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Aera can see Nyx falter, the movement missed by both Lyra and Rangi, whose attention are pinned only on her. "We had to create a diversion. It took a bit of work," she answers simply, skillfully sidestepping any mention of their detour.

Rangi's shaking his head as he holds out a hand to relieve Aera of her backpack, but his relief is evident. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and feels his sigh through her palm. "You guys don't need to worry about me," she reminds them, but Aera can see Lyra shaking her head as well.

"It's not like there's anyone else to worry about." It's said in a plain voice, but Aera can read the bitterness behind those words. Rangi pauses in the middle of pulling the batons out of her backpack, and she can feel his gaze shifting between her and Lyra before he sets the bag down.

"Lyra…" But he struggles to find the right words to say, and Aera can't blame him.

They've all been doing a decent job of internalizing their pain, always circling the subject of loss without ever broaching it. It's been heartbreaking to watch someone so young tuck away all her emotions like that, and even more so to see that carefully arranged composure start to crack.

To her surprise, it's Nyx who breaks the tension. "We should probably all get some rest. Big day tomorrow, right?"

A quick glance at the clock in the kitchen confirms that it's already past midnight. The three of them have already established that the ideal time to attempt an escape would be early dawn, which means an even earlier start. "Yeah, it's jammy time." Aera gives Lyra a teasing nudge on her shoulder, and though there's still an air of solemnity hovering over the girl like a dark cloud, Lyra nods.

Rangi inspects each door and window, ensuring that they're properly locked and the curtains fully drawn. Lyra heads into the bathroom to change into her pyjamas—a small semblance of normality for which no one blames the teenager for clinging onto. Never mind the fact that the pyjamas she wears are something Aera's simply lifted from an abandoned store the night after the attack.

"Uh, the girls usually get the bed." Rangi has his hand behind his neck, looking a little uncertain as he looks from Aera to Nyx. "But you can take the couch."

The Glaive pauses in the middle of removing his jacket, shaking his head. "It's fine. I think I've had more than enough sleep." Draping the jacket and his armor over the back of a dining chair, Nyx motions to the couch. "You take it. I'll keep guard."

When Rangi looks ready to argue, Aera interrupts. "Just take the couch, Rangi." Though the words are clipped and brisk, her voice lacks bite. She hears him sigh, but Rangi throws his hands up as if in surrender, and drops onto the couch.

Aera throws her own jacket over the bed's footboard, and places the holstered daggers onto the bedside table by her head. "My watch's alarm is set for two hours before dawn," she tells them as she kicks off her boots. "We'll go over the plan, and try to leave around sunrise." No one protests the early start.

She waits until Lyra's emerged from the bathroom before climbing onto the bed. Her eyes remain on the ceiling long after the teenager's breathing has calmed, mentally running through the route again. This wouldn't be the first time Aera's had to make a covert escape—but it's the first she'd had to do it with three others, two of whom are non-combatants. Fingers close anxiously around the blanket, and she shuts her eyes in an attempt to calm her nerves.

...

When Aera wakes, she's none too surprised to see that the Glaive is still awake. Though it could simply be his training that enforces him to take "guard duty" seriously, she has to wonder if Nyx could sleep even if he'd attempted to. After all, it can't be easy waking to a world that's been turned on its head, as he had.

She's careful not to wake Lyra as she leaves the bed, silently trodding over into the bathroom to wash her face. The plumbing stopped working the day after the attack, but Rangi had the foresight to fill his tub with water before then. The water is cold as she splashes it against her face, but it washes away the sleep well enough.

Nyx is sitting by the dining table when she emerges from the bathroom, squinting at her maps. He glances up at her, nods in greeting, but resumes his quiet appraisal of the pages. More than just street maps, these sketches detail the underground passages—both the clandestine, and the ones borne of Insomnia's metro and sewer system. As far as Aera can confirm, they should be mostly accurate, drawn from her memory of other maps, and from her own ventures into the underground.

Quietly crossing the living room, Aera pauses for a moment by the kitchen to take count of the supplies they've gathered. Rangi owned some camping gear, but it was through scavenging that they were able to find the other necessary survival equipment. One of his hiking bags appears to be filled with their rationed food, sitting beside a smaller one that Aera assumes is filled with extra clothing and some blankets.

"You made all of these?" Nyx keeps his voice low, a crease between his brow as he looks up at her.

"I thought they might come in handy." Aera's already got a route in mind, but there's no guarantee that they won't run into any issues. It was impossible to verify which passage remained intact after the siege, or who else they may meet while underground. The maps, sketched onto whatever blank sheets of paper Rangi happened to have around his home, serve only as a brain dump, so Aera may at least visualize her plan.

The Glaive looks at her with something of a guarded expression "Niflheim's attack...that was only a few days ago, right?" She nods, head canting as she awaits his question. "How long have you been planning this escape?"

"For a few days," she answers, unabashedly meeting his gaze. The only advantage she has over anyone else left in the ruins of Insomnia is that she's already had the resources. "Why don't you ask me what you really want to ask me, Nyx?"

He glances over at Rangi's still slumbering form, then Lyra, and the expression with which he regards Aera is perhaps more severe than she's seen on him yet. "You knew about the attack before everyone else did, didn't you?"

And just as before, Aera meets his gaze with no trouble. "No—not as a certain fact. I had my suspicions, though." After all, distrust is in her nature, and it seems neither she nor King Regis had been naive enough to believe the Empire's _good will_.

The answer doesn't quite seem to placate the Glaive, but he remains silent, returning his attention to the maps as Rangi stirs from the couch. Aera gives the man a wave as he stands, before leaving the dining table to wake Lyra. Dawn is approaching, and Aera needs to ensure that everyone is awake and alert before they make their leave.

They gather around the dining table—there's _just_ enough space for all four of them. The only light they can afford to turn on is a small, dim camping lamp, placed in the centre of the table and shielded by their bodies. Though Rangi's only windows are narrow and barely noticeable from the outside, they can't risk being detected by the MTs.

"Any luck contacting your friends outside?" Aera's not surprised when Rangi shakes his head, expression looking grim.

"The cell towers were destroyed in the attack, I guess. There's no signal."

"We can try again after we've left, then." She places a reassuring hand on his arm, but Aera can tell that Rangi remains worried, nonetheless. Though likely that the attack had been confined to Insomnia, without any electricity or cell signal, it's impossible to know what the world outside may be like. While everyone maintains hope that the rest of Lucis is relatively unaffected, it seems they're all prepared for the worst.

Aera takes another moment to glance over the companions, gauging their expressions before moving onto the rest of the plan. "Alright, Arma Station is the one that's closest to us; we'll try that one, first." The entrance appeared intact the last time Aera had seen it, but she hadn't a chance to venture into the tunnels within.

"Our destination will be this tunnel, here." She reaches over to point out an 'x' marked into one of the other pages; a storm drain that leads outside the city walls. It's a far walk, especially through in the dark.

Lyra scans the maps, tracing a path from their starting point to the storm drain. "It could take us the entire day to get there."

"Assuming we don't run into any hiccups." With a heavy sigh, Rangi runs his fingers through his hair, looking already exhausted by the prospect of their escape. Aera gives his shoulder a nudge, and the look he returns is almost petulant, if not for the grimness shadowing his features.

"We'll be prepared for any delays—we've got almost a week's worth of rations packed up." Though her voice is slurred by sleep and her movements a little sluggish, it's clear that Lyra remains attentive. If her mind remains still on the grief she'd expressed the previous night, Lyra doesn't let it show.

"I'll lead, Nyx, you bring up the rear." The Kingsglaive nods, his focussed expression masking whatever distrust he may have developed overnight. "If things go sideways, do not engage." She's directing this to Rangi and Lyra, who don't look like they're about to disagree. "Those batons are a precaution, and hopefully you won't need to use them." The tension in her companions' expressions assure Aera that they're on the same page.

The room suddenly feels brighter, and indeed, when Aera glances at the window, a faint light falls through the curtains. Rangi must have noticed, too, because his shoulders grow more tense, and his expression more sombre.

"Everyone ready?" A nervous energy hums in the air as Aera glances at each of her companions, chest tightening as each of them realize this may be the last time they'll ever see Insomnia. "Alright," she says, just in case any of them decide to change their minds about leaving. "Let's go."

* * *

They're silent as they march through the metro tunnel, the path ahead dimly illuminated by the small lights they've clipped to their clothing. They've met no resistance thus far, though it's been a few hours since they left Rangi's apartment. Yet, the growing unease keeps Aera on guard, and she maintains one hand closed around the handle of one of her daggers.

She pauses in front of a closed door, shifting her light so that she may read the metal sign set into the wall beside it. _Maintenance - Section F_ , it reads, and Aera casts a brief glance over to her companions.

Nyx nods, dropping into a defensive stance in front of the door as her fingers curl around the handle. In spite of whatever distrust he may have expressed prior to their departure, it's been easy for them to settle into such a routine with every corner they turned and each doorway they entered.

She pulls the door open, and beyond the light creaking of the hinges, they're met with silence. Nyx moves carefully as he enters, his kukris readied. There's a pause, a short, tense moment of stillness before Aera sees the Glaive motion for the rest of them to follow.

The door shuts behind them, and Aera returns to her position in the lead. They're only a few feet down the first corridor when something seems to scuttle away in the distance—something decidedly larger than a rat. Her new daggers leave their holsters, and her pace slows as they approach the corner up ahead.

Something scrambles across the hallway just as Aera turns, and she shares a brief look with Nyx before pushing forward. Without the Wall to protect Insomnia from both the Empire and the daemons, it's perhaps no wonder that the latter had decided to move into the city's dark underbelly.

There's a sound like the earth breaking, and she can see their silhouettes forming in the smoke and shadows ahead. "Lyra, Rangi, stay close to the walls," she orders, before running up ahead to meet the Goblins before they can get too close to her companions. Nyx joins her in the fray, his movements swift and deliberate as he cuts away at the Goblins.

One of the daemons attempt to grab at her, and Aera twists out of its grasp, drawing her blade across its face. Its wail is unearthly and horrible, but it hardly bothers Aera enough to distract her. She strikes again, plunging the dagger into the thing's abdomen before meeting the hungry hands of another Goblin with her other dagger.

It's not an ideal battleground; far too dark and claustrophobic. But the narrow corridor ensures that Aera can keep an eye on Rangi and Lyra even as she cuts down the daemons. And between her and the Glaive, the fight ends quickly, with neither of them worse for wear.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" He's hardly out of breath, sliding the daggers back into their respective sheaths.

"I had an interesting childhood," she tosses back, moving to check on the rest of their group. It's clearly not the answer Nyx wants, but Aera's unconcerned for the moment.

Rangi has Lyra between his back and the wall, his baton held in his hands as his gaze sweeps for more monsters. When none appear, he noticeably relaxes, stepping away from Lyra. "Good work," he says, running his fingers through his hair again. Aera wonders if this little fight might have added a few years to his age—she's loathe to think of how he may react to anything worse.

"Do you need a potion?" To her credit, Lyra hardly looks bothered, though Aera can tell she's holding back from rushing Aera to make sure that she was unharmed.

"I'm fine. Nyx?" Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Aera quickly looks the Glaive over for any injuries beyond what he'd woken up with in Rangi's apartment. He shakes his head, but he appears otherwise distracted, brows furrowed as his gaze remains pinned on something further up ahead. Frowning, she approaches him, practically holding her breath when he motions to the hallway up ahead.

She peers around the corner, feeling her stomach churn at the sight that greets her. Her gaze drops first to the backpacks left on the dusty floor, torn open and its contents strewn across the hallway. And a little further away lie the bodies, a dark pool of their blood marking the ground beneath them. Aera hears a sharp gasp behind her, and moves to shield Lyra from the carnage—though she's clearly a little too late.

The Goblins were hardly a challenge at all, but Aera must remember that Insomnia's citizens have not seen combat, and were untouched by the war raged around their city. If she or Nyx had not accompanied Lyra and Rangi—could this have been their fate as well.

"...We should keep moving." Rangi's voice is hoarse, and he has a protective arm around Lyra, trying to steer her away from the bodies. Aera nods solemnly, glancing at Nyx for a moment before continuing.

The scent of decay grows stronger as they approach, but Aera resolves to simply hold her breath. She maintains an impassive expression, ignoring the cadavers for Lyra's sake more than her own. They push through into the next room, located at the end of the corridor; it's a control room of sorts, though the switches and monitors are dark, and the chairs empty.

It would have been a good place to take a break, if not for the corpses that lay only a few meters down the hall from them. No one seems too intent on staying, either, so Aera wordlessly continues on, letting Nyx take point as she opens the next door. It's a relief when nothing comes at them, but the unease has already settled into their bones, and accompanies them throughout the remainder of the journey.

They only have two more incidents since the first—more Goblins, likely having crept in from the area surrounding Insomnia. As malevolent as they are, they're certainly preferable to the wilder creatures that inhabit the world outside, and easily dispatched. It seems the Empire didn't think MTs would be needed in the underground, where they might have expected daemons to dominate and pick off any survivors who dared to enter.

Yet the encounters, coupled with far too many collapsed tunnels, runs their journey well into the night. They stop only at Aera's insistence that continuing without rest will only leave them more vulnerable should something _worse_ than Goblins appear. The room in which they settle is cramped and smells of musk, but the door is secure and their combined lights seem to ward away anything too curious. Aera positions herself by the door, absently twirling one kukri between her hands as she listens for the noises outside.

She can't tell if Lyra or Rangi were able to sleep much at all, and she has doubts that Nyx afforded himself much more than a light nap. They all seem to wake the moment Aera stands to stretch, and their journey continues in silence.

The route takes them through metro tunnels to service tunnels, and even the sewers. "There's a reason I told you guys to wear waterproof shoes," Aera murmurs, trying not to step too deep into the murky waters.

"You should have told us to bring gas masks, too," comes Rangi's disgruntled retort, muffled by the arm he's pressed over his mouth and nose.

"I don't think they would have helped against smells, anyway." Lyra makes a gagging noise; apparently the air tastes as bad as it smells.

Nyx responds with a snort, and clearly regrets it when he starts choking on the putrid air as well.

To her credit, Aera doesn't laugh at any of them, though her lips are curved into the barest semblance of a smirk. "We're almost through." And indeed, they should be reaching another conduit soon, one that will eventually take them to the storm drain. Eventually, the odour of waste fades, leaving only musk and dust. They've travelled well into a second evening by the time Aera leads them to the storm drain.

The silence and tension breaks at the sight of the night sky ahead of them, marred by an iron gate. The air is brisk, but it's quiet, and nothing stirs but the wind. Lyra breaks away from Rangi, her boots splashing along the floor of the tunnel as she hurries towards the drain's exit. Her voice is quiet, but it carries down the tunnel just the same: "we made it."

Those words seem to break the spell over Rangi, who visibly relaxes as he joins Lyra by the gate. The vast, empty land around Insomnia greets them, and Aera knows if they are to look a little further, they'll find the ocean below. The sight is as beautiful as it is bittersweet; a victory that's not without its losses.

"So, what now?"

Her brows furrow as she turns to look at Nyx, regarding her with the same, careful expression he held back in Rangi's apartment. "It's too dangerous to continue out there while it's nighttime." With the king's Wall dissipated, Aera has no doubt that daemons are already taking the opportunity to creep closer to the city, as the Goblins had. "We can rest here, and move out in the morning."

"That's not what I meant." To his credit, Nyx keeps his voice low, glancing over at Lyra and Rangi, who are already setting up a campsite of sorts by the gate and are paying them no mind. "After we leave; what's after that?"

She knows that Nyx is clever enough to realize that she's not without a plan, and she herself is perceptive enough to know that it's not just their escape plan he wants to know. "There will likely be a blockade further down the road that leads into the city, but there's a footbridge beneath the road. It was used for maintenance, but its entrance can be difficult to find, so I don't expect there to be any patrols there. And after that," she looks over to the others, "we'll head to Hammerhead. It's the nearest outpost, and hopefully we'll have cell signal by then. We'll see who we can contact for help...and we'll go from there."

The Glaive maintains his guarded expression, lips pressed into a thin line as he watches her. It's as though he's trying to unravel any lies, sifting through the pieces and hoping something will align. Aera can't fault him for his distrust, for what little she's telling him. And prima facie, it would appear there's little harm in revealing what she's been tasked to do. Yet, Aera tends to err on the side of caution, and it's served her well for so long.

And besides, secrecy is sort of her trade.

"We should eat," she finally says, when Nyx doesn't say anything at all. He only nods, allowing his expression to settle into something more amicable as he approaches the others. Her head cants as she watches him.

She entertains the possibilities of what might occur is she _does_ tell him everything. Really, though, Aera's not even sure he'd believe her, if she does.


	4. Chapter 4

It becomes very clear, very quickly, that Lyra hasn't ventured outside of Insomnia before. Her eyes are wide with wonder as she scans the surrounding landscape, lips parted slightly at the vastness of the emptiness around her. Aera and Rangi share a look, both of them shaking their heads at the teenager's unabashed joy as she runs towards the sounds of the waves breaking.

"I mean, I know what the ocean looks like, but— _wow_."

It's such a drastic change from the reserved, observant girl Aera's known since the attack that she can't help but grin at the teenager.

And it's not as though Aera can blame her. It's certainly not her first time seeing the ocean, but after their numerous days and nights spent huddled in Rangi's cozy but _small_ apartment, and a tense journey through the claustrophobic underground of Insomnia—the water really is a sight for sore eyes.

"Hey, don't go too close to the edge." Rangi jogs to catch up with the girl, stopping when he's certain she's not about to tumble over the cliff.

That sense of urgency has dissipated with the rising sun, though Aera—like Nyx, it appears—maintains her guard, even as she relishes the warmth of the sun on her face and the ability to just stretch her arms.

"Imagine how she'll react when we actually get to the water," Nyx muses, watching the teenager with a fond expression Aera doesn't expect.

"Rangi might want to put one of those leash backpacks on her." With a laugh, Aera jogs to catch up to the others, shouldering the backpack that Lyra had dropped as she ran to get a closer look at the crashing waves. "C'mon kid," she calls out, "we've got a long walk ahead of us."

The path down to the footbridge is a precarious one, with the wooden steps partly rotted and the stairs obscured by wild foliage. Rangi takes lead—he's the least graceful out of all of them, he'd announced, and figured that if he loses his footing, at least he wouldn't be falling into the rest of them. Aera figures he's mostly joking, because he traverses down the uneven steps with ease.

"How do you know about these stairs?" Nyx's voice is right beside her ear, and by this point, Aera can't decide if he's expressing his suspicions with her just as a means to pass the time.

"My parents used to take me to a beach down there all the time when I was a kid." Mention of her parents no longer elicits the same grief as it had years ago, but even now, it causes a tightening in her chest. "I wandered off while my dad was chasing after one of my...more wayward school friends. Ended up at that storm drain."

The expression she catches out of the corner of her eyes speaks to Nyx's doubt, but she only shrugs. She hasn't lied to him yet, and this is no exception.

And sure enough, a stretch of pristine beach circles the grounds beneath the steps, with the ocean to one side and the rocky cliff to the other. It's clear that the beach has been untouched by people for a long time; what had once been a tranquil vacation spot for Lucian families who know of it, is now abandoned as the war encroached ever closer to Insomnia.

The wooden steps melt into a path cutting through the tall grass, and the trail diverges; one leads to a precarious climb down to the beach, and the other ends at a set of metal stairs. To Lyra's disappointment, they take the path to the second set of stairs.

While their journey out of the city had been tense and silent, their walk beneath the bridge—and over the ocean—seems to mirror the sunny skies and glistening water. There's small talk and banter, and a couple of awfully cheesy jokes that has Aera grimacing. And even while the grief of leaving their homes behind still lingers, it plays second fiddle to the collective sense of relief, the weight of a difficult escape being taken off their shoulders.

They're having lunch when Aera checks her phone again, feeling just a tad anxious when she sees that they're close enough to another cell tower that there's signal. A number of missed notifications appear on her phone, and she glances up at Rangi, motioning towards her device to remind him of his.

He nods and stands, pulling his own phone out of his pocket. Aera watches him as he moves away from the group to make his calls before glancing down at the screen on her phone. She can feel Nyx and Lyra's eyes on her as she scrolls through the text messages, but she ignores them.

 _I made it out of the city._ Sent the day after the attack. More followed, spanning the next few days following the siege.

 _Did you make it out? Call me._

 _I'm at Hammerhead. Meet me here._

 _I caught up with Noctis. Did you leave Insomnia yet?_

 _Please tell me you're still alive._

Aera can't deny she feels nervous as she taps the icon to call, though she's not sure why. Perhaps the prospect of finally hearing a familiar voice now seems so unlikely, that Aera's trying to prepare herself for disappointment. But the phone only makes it to two rings before someone picks up.

" _Aera?"_

Stubborn bastard, of course he's alright. "Yeah. Just made it out of Insomnia." She sounds breathless even to her own ears.

" _Took you long enough."_ And despite his perpetual, stoic tone, Aera can hear the relief in his voice, the small breath he lets out before speaking again. " _Where are you now?"_

"Just outside the city walls—under the bridge." She glances up as Rangi rejoins them, his expression curious as he glances over to her. "We should be at Hammerhead tomorrow."

" _...'We'?"_

"Yeah, there's four of us."

A brief moment of silence, as though he's processing the information. Knowing him, she's pretty sure that he's eager to get her started on the task that has been given to her, and that civilians would mean a delay. He's going to have to deal with that.

" _Alright. I'll meet you at Hammerhead."_ There's a pause, then, " _stay safe, Aera."_

"You know I will." She hangs up, the way her companions are not-so-subtly trying to hide their curiosity not lost on her. Lips quirk into an amused smile as she slides the phone back into her pocket and she picks up her sandwich. "Rangi, are you friends okay?"

"Yeah...looks like the Empire only hit Insomnia." His voice is an interesting mixture of relief and bitterness, and Aera can only respond with a tight-lipped nod. "They offered to let us stay with them, at Lestallum."

"That's pretty far…" Nyx pauses mid-bite, frowning.

"I know...They offered to pick us up at Hammerhead, but I couldn't ask that of them. I figured we could hitchhike, or rent some Chocobos."

"...Can we please rent some Chocobos?" Lyra glances at them furtively over her sandwich, eyes wide as though bracing for a 'no'.

"I don't understand what is with everyone's fascination with those giant birds," the Glaive mutters in response, shaking his head. His lips are pulled into a smile, though, and he glances at Aera, as if asking for a consensus.

"I don't see why not." With a chuckle, Aera finishes the rest of her sandwich. "We're going to get sick of walking pretty soon, anyway."

"You guys are the best."

...

The journey takes longer than Aera initially thought it would be, though in retrospect, she should have accounted for the fact that Lyra and Rangi are still civilians. In spite of their cheerful start, it's clear the journey is wearing on them, and they've had to stop for breaks more frequently than Aera would have liked.

Night had begun to fall before they'd reached the nearest Haven—so of course, when they finally did arrive, both Rangi and Lyra were exhausted by the hectic run through the darkness. Both had all but passed out without bothering to set up the tent, so it was perhaps fortunate the forecast hadn't called for rain.

The remainder of their journey the next day is quiet, with Rangi and Lyra both looking as though they've pulled all-nighters. At their pace, the group doesn't reach the outpost at Hammerhead until early afternoon, and Aera swears that Rangi is tearing up at the sight of the diner and the smell of greasy fast food.

It's not as though they've been living on the rationed sandwiches and protein bars for that long, having packed more than enough for the two days, in case they should be without normal meals for longer. But the sight of other people and buildings, even if the region outside of Insomnia is more or less foreign to Lyra and Rangi, is clearly a huge relief.

But it's not the diner that Aera has her eyes on. She recognizes the figure even at a distance, and the sense of relief feels like a solid wall. Her steps falter, but Aera doesn't pay attention to her companions' curious gazes. She takes another second to confirm that she's not just hallucinating, before running towards the man at full speed.

"Cor!"

He turns, and though his expression remains neutral, Aera can see the shift in his posture as soon as he catches sight of her. She stops just short of running into him, pausing for a moment before she throws her arms around him. His chest rumbles with a low chuckle, and he puts one arm over her shoulders; it's as close to a hug as she'll get.

"I'm glad you're alright," he tells her, the corner of his lips twitching into the barest semblance of a smile. His gaze shifts over her shoulder to her companions, but his attention remains on Aera. "I knew you would be."

"Picked up that stubbornness from you, you know." Aera pulls away, her smile small but lopsided and light.

"Good, it means I've trained you well." He's looking past her once more, brows furrowing as the others draw closer. "A Glaive…?"

When Aera turns, she sees that Nyx has straightened his posture, looking every bit the soldier his uniform suggests him to be. If he's surprised to see the Marshal here, he hides it well. "Sir."

Beside him, Lyra and Rangi share a look, and while their expressions are curious, they keep their questions to themselves. Cor gives them his usual silent acknowledging nod, and turns to Aera with a brow raised.

"You guys go on ahead, before Rangi threatens cannibalism." A hand motions them towards the diner, and there's another shared look between them before they agree. When her companions are out of hearing range, Aera turns to Cor. "Something tells me you want to talk business."

A tiny smile graces his otherwise stony features, and he motions towards the vast landscape behind the outpost. Aera keeps pace beside him, caught between wanting for nothing but small talk, for some semblance of normality—and being eager to carry on with her plans.

"You already know the Glaives were deployed outside of Insomnia on the day of the treaty signing." And of course, the Marshal puts work as top priority. Aera's not terribly disappointed, though; she's grown up with this man, and she's used to his cold countenance.

"Yes. And no, I do not know how Nyx ended up back in Insomnia. We found him near the body of General Glauca." Or, what's left of the body. It had begun decaying much quicker than it perhaps should, and Aera has to wonder if what had granted him his unnatural strength might have had an unpleasant side effect.

She's careful not to mention that Nyx wasn't exactly alive when she first found him. Though his composure remains steadfast, Aera doesn't need Cor to worry more than she knows he already does.

Cor's expression shifts, only slightly. "Nyx Ulric?" When her brows raise in surprise, Cor simply shrugs. "He has quite the reputation among the Kingsglaive. His skills are said to be quite impressive."

"Well, he can certainly hold up his own, even without the King's powers to aid him anymore."

"I trust that you haven't told him anything of your mission."

Aera frowns, her steps pausing as she turns to face Cor. "No, of course not." Her question sits unspoken on her lips, trusting Cor to elaborate.

And he does, shoulders heaving with a sigh that seems uncharacteristic for him. "I came upon the ruins of some of the Niflheim vessels which the Glaives were to be infiltrating. It was meant to be a rescue operation, for the Lady Lunafreya."

Having been privy to this information already, Aera nods, silently urging Cor to continue.

"The Oracle has escaped, fortunately. However, many Glaives perished on those ships." He casts a gaze over to the dusty lands of the Leiden countryside, brows furrowing for a brief moment before continuing. "I found the body of one of these Glaives; he had an Insomnia-issued dagger plunged into his back."

Her head cants, brows knotting together at the implications of this information. "Only MTs were on those vessels?" The Marshall nods, and Aera begins piecing the information together. The Magitek operatives hold some sort of base instinct, but they are largely only capable of following the orders programmed into their system—however that worked. No MT soldier would have the mind to take a Glaive's blade and use it against him.

"Traitors." The word tastes bitter on her tongue, her hands closed into angry fists. It would explain how Niflheim was able to infiltrate the Citadel; an inside job, or at least a task done with insider information. It at first seems inconceivable that the stalwart soldiers would be capable of this sort of treason—but Aera also understands from where their hatred may stem. She's witnessed firsthand how some of Insomnia's natives view the city's immigrant population. And she's experienced it herself, as her mother hadn't been born in Insomnia either.

"You think Nyx is one of them?"

"No. He was the one who helped Lady Lunafreya escape, and she seems to think quite highly of him."

This time, Aera's surprise is unabashed, and she can't help but think that Cor was setting her up for such a reaction. The look she gives him is mildly unimpressed, and he gives her that microscopic, half-smirk again before looking out into the distance again.

"He may be a valuable ally."

Aera frowns, the implication of his words not at all lost on her. "You're telling me to let him in on this whole...thing."

"Don't tell him everything. But though I have confidence in your skills and your training, your task is dangerous. You can't expect to manage it alone."

Her frown deepens. "You're not coming with me."

The Marshal shakes his head, and for a moment, Aera catches something like regret flash over his usually impassive countenance. "The Prince has a ways to go before he is ready to reclaim the throne. And there is much to be done in the meanwhile."

It seems unfair that Aera would be reunited with Cor—the only person left whom she considers her family—only so that they would part ways again. Perhaps even worse is the knowledge that both of their roads are wrought with danger. But such are their duties, and both she and Cor are nothing if not dutiful.

"You do what you can, then. And I'll do what I can." It seems to satisfy Cor, who places an encouraging hand on her shoulder.

"I've made preparations for your travels, though I wasn't expecting you would be accompanied by civilians." She gives him a half-hearted, apologetic shrug, but if it bothers Cor, he doesn't let it show.

"Rangi has friends in Lestallum. He was able to get a hold of them, so that's where they'll be headed. It's on the way, so…" The Marshal is not heartless, yet Aera knows what he thinks of her _distraction_ from her task. The tight-lipped look he gives her doesn't disappoint, but the response he provides elicits genuine surprise.

"There should be enough room in your vehicle then."

That gives her pause. "My vehicle?"

"I did mention that I've made preparations, didn't I?" He gestures to the Hammerhead lot, where a couple of vehicles were parked. Aera recognizes Cor's bike, and assumes the rest belong to the other patrons of the outpost. "I've gathered some additional supplies, and the tank is full." Without looking at her, Cor motions for Aera to follow.

He stops in front of a boxy black jeep, and fishes a set of keys out from one of his pockets. "It's all I can do for now."

"Is this a belated sweet-sixteen present?" She accepts the keys, gaze jumping to the jeep before pocketing them.

The man snorts, but Aera doesn't miss the smile on his face. "I'm only eight years too late." The smile dims, and he glances over to the diner. "Go eat with your friends. I'll see you off tomorrow."

She nods, surprising the Marshal with another hug before leaving him with a mock salute.

When she enters the diner, the air is heavy with unasked questions, but Aera's companions respectfully refrain from asking about the Marshal (though she's pretty sure they did not hesitate to drill Nyx on the enigmatic man while she was away). They settle into the small caravan parked outside the diner, conversations once again returning to small talk and jokes—topics that, Aera noticed, have little to no relation to the lives they had in Insomnia.

And while the others are content to settle into their bunk beds in the caravan, Aera remains outside, eyes on the constellations above. They've always been a comfort to her, especially when she had to leave Insomnia to fulfill her duties, and they remain a comfort, still. She remains in her chair for a moment longer before quietly entering the caravan, smiling at the sound of steady breaths and quiet snores.

Aera carefully, silently retrieves a blanket from Lyra's backpack, and returns outside with it wrapped around her shoulders. Both Lyra and Rangi were elated to learn that they now have a means to reaching Lestallum, and their demeanors seem even lighter than before. It must seem to them that things are truly looking up, in spite of the devastating loss of their home and their loved ones.

But for Aera, her work is nowhere near done.

Deftly, she climbs to the top of the caravan, and settles by the front. She's cross-legged, eyes on the stars when she hears the door open. Lyra's light footsteps are easy to recognize, and when the teenager lowers herself to the spot beside her, Aera's brows furrow.

"I can't sleep," she girl says simply, and Aera can hear the coarseness in her voice, the way it trembles. It's hard to forget how _difficult_ a tranquil night can be, how insistent the silence sounds to a mourning mind.

For her part, Aera remains silent, putting an arm around the girl's shoulders and pulling her closer. Lyra's body shudders with a single, stifled sob, and feeling her own grief surface, Aera lowers her gaze, pressing a kiss to the top of Lyra's head.

"Am I—am I ever going to stop missing them?" Lyra's voice shakes, and Aera knows she's holding back tears.

Oh, how Aera wishes she can tell her that it will be okay, that one day, she won't ever have to wish she could go back to how things were, or yearn to hear their voices again, feel the warmth of their presence. She wishes she can tell Lyra that at some point, she will stop feeling guilty for being the one who lived, that she will stop punishing herself for it.

But Aera doesn't want to lie.

"No," her voice is barely a whisper, "it's going to be a constant companion for a long while, lingering in some corner of your mind. But you'll get used to it, and it'll stop hurting." It's the only thing Aera can say that she knows is true, though she can only hope Lyra has the strength to make that so.

"But it hurts so much now."

And Aera remembers just how much it had hurt, how it felt as though her heart was gripped in a barbed vice, how it darkened and steeled and nullified any and all of the light from her. It's startling, how similar that is to her emotions now. There may not have been many people to whom Aera felt close, in Insomnia—but that was her _home_. And now it's gone.

"I know."

…..

Feathered lashes flutter open as the dark of the night wanes, giving way to the glow of sunrise. Her body feels stiff, arms locked in position so that Lyra wouldn't accidentally fall off the top of the caravan in her slumber. The girl is still sleeping, so Aera remains in that position still, as her gaze sweeps out to the rising sun.

She hadn't cried, though her eyes feel puffy and her chest tight.

It's almost funny how the landscape in front of her feels almost more familiar than Insomnia does at times; she's spent so much of the last few years outside of the Crown City's borders. And if she really wants to fool herself, Aera might pretend that this is simply another assignment, that when this is over, she'll have a home to return to.

The caravan shifts slightly below her, and the slight creak of the door opening announces that someone else is awake. She's unsurprised to see Nyx leaving the doorway, sans jacket. He takes a moment to stretch before looking around, apparently looking for her and Lyra.

It takes him a moment before his gaze finds the top of the caravan, and his expression is set into a small frown. Aera returns it with a tight-lipped shrug, her expression no doubt mirroring the exhaustion she suddenly feels. Her slumber was not a restorative one, her mind replaying her losses—all of them—well into the night.

She can see the way his expression shifts as his eyes move to Lyra's sleeping form, curled up beside Aera. There's a sadness, a look of haunting that alludes to something in his past, much further back than Insomnia's fall. But Aera's curiosity takes a back seat to her fatigue, and her attention returns to the sunrise.

She watches until the sun crests, until the silence of the dawn dissolves to the noises of human activity, of the garage's proprietor—an ally of the Crown, Aera knows, and old friend to the King—opening up his shop. The caravan's door opens again, and Aera knows that Rangi's awakened as well.

He looks up at her, his expression sympathetic. For her part, Aera manages a small smile, one that lasts mere seconds. It's not quite enough to quell her companion's concern, and his face remains set in a frown even as he walks away, rummaging in his backpack for the ingredients of their breakfast.

The meal itself is a quiet affair, stifled by the remnants of sleep and the apparent need to tiptoe around Lyra. Her expression appears carefully neutral, and in spite of the occasional smile they've managed to elicit from her, it's clear that Lyra is still working through her grief.

She leaves the table almost immediately after finishing her meal, announcing in a quiet voice that she'll start packing up for the next leg of her journey. Rangi watches her departing figure with a frown, taking a moment to share a look with Aera before he follows.

Aera heaves a sigh as she watches the two of them leave, gaze dropping to the remnants of her breakfast when they disappear into the caravan. It remains quiet for a while, before Nyx finally speaks.

"Is...she okay?" There's a crease between his brows, punctuating the concern on his features as he looks from the caravan to Aera.

She responds with a tight-lipped expression. "When Rangi and I found her…" It's an unsettling memory, even worse with how Aera seems to recall with utmost clarity. "She was in a store with her family, where some others had gathered for shelter during the battle. The building had collapsed." It had been near silent, the only thing alerting Aera and Rangi to Lyra being her quiet cries. Getting her out had been a precarious endeavour, and when Aera had intended to search within the building for more survivors, she'd been stopped by a shaking hand on her arm.

"She was the only one who'd survived."

The look on Nyx's face reflects her own, and again, her gaze simply drops to her food, appetite gone. There had been a sudden change in Lyra's demeanor after they'd arrived at Rangi's apartment; she'd been determined, utilizing quick thinking and strategizing that impressed even Aera to help prepare them for an escape. It had been obvious even then that she was merely setting her grief aside.

Aera doesn't look up when she hears the pair exit the caravan, swallowing the last of her breakfast just as Rangi approaches. He's shouldered his backpack, his brows remain drawn together as he regards her. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Yeah…" For the first time in perhaps forever, Aera doesn't sound convincing even to her own ears.

Rangi's frown only deepens.

"Maybe you should nap in the car. I can drive." She doesn't miss the apprehension in his voice, as though he's testing the boundaries of their trust.

Aera considers it anyway, because though she's confident she'll remain alert enough to drive if she has to, it might at least put everyone else at ease if she doesn't. "Thanks, Rangi." She fishes around in her pocket for the keys Cor had given her, dropping them in Rangi's open palm. Appearing somewhat relieved, he nods before heading for the parked jeep.

She can still feel Nyx's eyes on her as she stands from the table, pausing only to rub the sleep from her eyes as she joins Rangi at the jeep. Lips quirk in mild amusement when she notices him eying the curatives in the trunk as he stacks their own supplies beside the crates. "This car looks like it's stocked for battle."

"Cor's a big fan of preparation," she replies, shrugging as though Rangi hadn't guessed correctly. Her companion gives her a pointed look before closing the trunk, motioning for Lyra and Nyx to get in.

Aera slides into the back, head resting against the window as she watches Nyx open the front passenger door for Lyra, bowing at her with a flourish. It's enough to bring a smile—albeit small—to the girl's face. "Milady."

"Oh, stop." But there's laughter in her voice, and the sound of it eases Aera's concerns.

Nyx slides into the remaining seat, the smile still on his face even when he looks over to Aera. It's clear that he retains some of his prior distrust, though seeing Cor must have eased that somewhat. She replies with a lopsided smile of her own, before releasing the yawn that's been building in her chest.

"I promise I won't make you too motion-sick," Rangi teases as he pulls out of the parking spot.

"If I have to throw up, I'm leaning over to throw up on you." Her smile widens at the disgruntled sound she elicits from him, and allows her eyes to close.

They're barely an hour into the drive when Aera feels her phone vibrating in her pocket, its buzzing merging with the music Rangi put on the radio. Without opening her eyes, she accepts the call and puts it to her ear. There's only one person who would call her, anyway.

" _Did you leave Hammerhead already?_ "

"Yeah, not long ago." Her eyes open and her brows draw together, ignoring the look she's receiving from the Glaive beside her.

There's a brief pause, one that only piques Aera's curiosity and concern further. " _The Empire recently began construction of a new base on the road to Duscae_."

Aera sits up straighter, sleep finally leaving her. "Of course they have." Said in a low grumble, a hand rises to pinch the bridge of her nose. Even after leaving the city, it seems the Empire remains standing firmly in their way.

" _I've tasked Noctis with taking it down._ " Her brows raise, but she waits for Cor to continue. " _The Glaive may be helpful. And there may be some useful information at the base._ "

The smile spreads, slow and sure. "Got it. Where am I meeting you?"

" _You can drop your companions off at the Prairie Outpost. The hunters there will ensure their safety until you return, and they will provide you with the directions to the base."_ Aera nods, recalling the outpost as one she's visited more than a few times in the past. " _Noctis and I will meet you at the base."_

"See you soon, then." The phone is returned to her pocket, and she can see Rangi's gaze flickering up to meet hers in the rearview mirror.

"A detour?" He doesn't sound too pleased, clearly eager to see his friends in Lestallum.

"The road west is blocked by an Imperial base." Her attention leaves Rangi, drifting over to Nyx whose brows are already drawn deeply together. "We'll need to clear it out before we can continue to Lestallum."

The Glaive doesn't hesitate even for a moment before nodding, determination already set into his features, lips set into a serious, almost grim line.

Rangi simply sighs in response, and Aera can imagine his grumpy expression even if she can no longer see his face. Lyra reaches out to pat him on the shoulder, as though in silent reminder that some things will always be well out of their control. "Alright, where are we heading, then?"

"The Prairie Outpost. You guys can rest there for a bit while Nyx and I meet up with Cor."

She can see Rangi nod, setting the destination on the jeep's navigation system to the aforementioned outpost. Relieved to have met little resistance from him, Aera leans back into her seat, casting a surreptitious glance at Nyx.

His eyes are on the passing landscape outside, but there's a determined set in his jaw and a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there earlier. It's clear that the Glaive never intended to lay down quietly once they've reached Lestallum, that his ill-will towards the Empire will not rest.

Aera wonders briefly if he's realized the same with her, but says nothing as she gazes out the window again. It'll feel good to be back at her job again.


End file.
